


At Your Service

by StrivingArtist



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, Comeplay, Dirty December, Edgeplay, F/F, F/M, Hints of Kushiel's Dart, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Modern Middle Earth, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, PWP, Punishment with a Switch, Rimming, Safe and Consensual, Safewords, Sane is less certain, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Spanking, fem!Bilbo, fem!Nori, floggers, for pairs and groups, so many kinks, various sexual positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:26:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrivingArtist/pseuds/StrivingArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bil's neighbors may not have approved of her little 'adventures' as they like to call them, but if there was something better in this world than being paid to have great sex, she didn't know what it was. So when she got a message through an old family friend about a contract for a party hosted by an anonymous khazad in the ancient kingdom of Erebor... well, how could she say no?</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Your Service

**Author's Note:**

> There is nothing of value here except for smut. However, I am quite happy with this pile of sin and debauchery.  
> If you think I need to add tags, please just let me know, but listing everything would be cumbersome.  
> And many thanks to the lovelies that Betaed for me. [Mephestopheles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mephestopheles/pseuds/mephestopheles) and [Geppetowoman](http://geppettowoman.tumblr.com) They managed to think about spelling and commas and grammar while reading, and I'm really proud of them for that. I certainly wasn't.
> 
>  
> 
> [This is basically the lingerie I'm about to talk about.](https://cdnc.lystit.com/photos/cfc6-2015/11/23/agent-provocateur-red-inka-bra-redgold-product-5-449358211-normal.jpeg)

Burgundy wasn’t a color she normally wore. It was fine enough, but she tended to dress herself in quieter, paler colors. Not that Bil was objecting to the way the outfit looked. Anything but.

The lace of the bra was almost sheer where it cut deep and wide over her ample breasts, making them look better than usual. Through the lace she could just see the shadowed shape of her nipple. The clasp at the back was delicate, and she had to hope it would survive the night. Good lingerie was a precious thing.

The thong matched, naturally. Considering the cost of the evening, a matched outfit was a given.  She still liked the way the thing looked however, even before she had put on the garter belt and clipped the thigh-high lace-topped, sheer stockings into place. It all was exquisitely made, suited her better than many things she’d worn at an event, and not a bit of it likely to survive til dawn.

She sighed.

Their loss. They had plenty of wealth to replace it if they wanted.

The glimmer that winked from the lace came from the tiny details stitched with gold thread in the hollows and points of the lace’s pattern. And having real gold stitched into lingerie would have been exciting, except for the fine gold chains that were strung in sets over the outfit. There were little tickles of metal along the outside of her hips where they draped from the underpants. There was a set of them that brushed over her lower stomach and the top of the the thong, suspended from the garter belt.

And those were lovely.

But the ones she just kept playing with were connected to the bra in a graceful drape over her breasts. Five strands of chain in varied lengths suspended just above the cleft of her cleavage. The gold was bright, and if the craftsman hadn’t made it so impossibly delicate it would have been heavy. Instead it was just enough for her to feel it softly shifting against her skin.

Deep red heels grounded the outfit, but didn’t finish it.

The robe, so deep a red she mistook it for black at first, sheer when it moved, nearly opaque otherwise, slipped onto her arms, and she tied the sash to make an enormous V over her chest.

In the mirror, Bil undid the soft bun and let her carefully made curls cascade down. There were little gemstones amongst the honey curls, either garnets or rubies, she wasn’t sure which, set in gold. Her makeup was minimal and overwhelmingly waterproof, by request of the contract she reviewed one last time after she was dressed.

Ribbon cuffs on her wrists, gems in hair, heels, simple makeup, their pre chosen outfit, faint hints of a fine gold glitter that made her look half like she ought to be a statue; the only thing left would be added by the attendant when she was brought inside.

She had already taken a set of vitamins and drank enough water she could make it to a break, there was nothing left but to wait.

Not that it took long.

The khazad were known to be punctual.

Bilbo Baggins had not expected to be contacted by them, but here she was, walking through the halls of the ancient city of Erebor, towards a party held by an anonymous someone who had made her an offer she simply could not decline.

A full evening, bought and paid for, to be used as they saw fit.

A gift to the other guests from the host.

She had heard stories about wild and dangerous khazad parties from others in the profession, but before she could even raise the issue with her contact, the man had brought out a list of requirements for the safety and comfort of all involved, herself first and foremost.

So no, Bil wasn’t anything but eager as she heard the chatter of a large group fall into silence on the far side of a curtain.

Then it was time.

The first impression of the room was how large it was. Cavernous. That would be the best word she could think of at the time. Gorgeous too, and glowing with light. Every bulb was hidden behind an elaborate, marbled, gold-toned glass sconce, and it made it feel like firelight. There were numerous tables forming a vague arch, and facing them was a dais with a cushion set at the center.

The hush in the room grew tense when she entered, walking promptly up the short steps and to the man waiting for her.

It wasn’t the one she had met with before. This one was excessively tall, dark, and handsome. Unfairly so. He was dressed in a deep blue suit with a black silk shirt beneath it, and was broad as the mountain itself. A superb example of khazad blood. There were a few silver hairs scattered in his dark hair, and they made the braid more dramatic. His beard was kept shorter than many khazad men, well trimmed and neat.

He was possibly the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen.  

Bil smirked a bit at him as she drew close, well aware that his eyes had tracked over her body as she moved, watching her as the movement turned the fabric sheer.

“Sir.”

With effort, he managed to pull his eyes away to speak to the others in attendance, “Friends, I think we must all thank Dwalin for his excellent choice of a toy for us tonight.” Spontaneous applause broke out, and Bil took the chance to look over them all. Far more men than women, as was common for their race, but each and every one of them dressed magnificently. The men wore suits that must have been custom tailored, the women wore gowns that hugged curves, and dipped low over their cleavage. Whoever had hosted this party was excessively wealthy. The ages of the guests were varied, but if rumor held true, not even those with greyed beards would have trouble keeping apace of the younger ones. Bil caught a few eyes as she surveyed them all. A blonde in a dark grey suit. The young brunet in the black that leaned in to whisper in the other’s ear. Dwalin with his stark tattoos — the only person she recognized. A stunning redhead who must have been of sylvan descent. A man with a curled mustache and a merry smirk she was certain masked darker tastes.

It wasn’t that the others weren’t looking at her — Bil was quite sure that every eye in the room was caught on the gold chains that had settled in a net over her cleavage — it was just that she only chose to make eye contact with a few of them.

“You are all aware of how this evening is to proceed, and of the necessity of established protocols. You have all read the contract’s rules. I am sure I do not need to explain it again. Bilbo is here—“

“Bil,” She interrupted, taking a chance that she had read him correctly. If she had it wrong, the unknown host would probably cancel the contract on the spot. She continued, with every ounce of cheek, “If you’d read the contract, you’d know my name is Bil….Sir.”

Once, just once, Bil had been wrong about when a client wanted her to obey, and when they wanted her to show a bit of spine.

Tonight, she was correct.

The unfairly gorgeous man turned back to her, and suppressed a smile. He didn’t manage to keep the wave of lust out of his eyes.

“Bil,” he continued, still staring at her with bright blue eyes, “is here as my guest, as are you all. I hope you enjoy her.” He nodded toward the cushion, and she folded onto it, feet tucked beneath her, and hands on the ground. The man knelt beside her, and quickly slipped a tie between her wrists and a point on the dais. It gave her just enough room to grab the ribbon, but her hands couldn’t go more than a few inches from the ground.

She arched her back as he tied, and exhaled the barest hint of a moan.

The answering growl told her as much as she would ever need to know.

All the same, he pulled a length of silky black fabric from a pocket, and tied it over her eyes. The room was reduced to shapes and shadows behind it, and the brush of air against her cheek where the man leaned in close.

“For now, let us enjoy this lovely meal, and progress to dessert after, shall we?” He announced it with finality, and Bil was left on her knees, almost vibrating at what that man was planning to do to her.

There was music playing, too resonant to be other than a live band, but the pieces they chose were simple, mild things that underscored the amiable murmuring perfectly. It was still made of deep bass notes and lingering tones, as all khazad music was, but didn’t overpower the mood. The chatter dwindled just after the smell of food arrived, and Bil shifted her knees, rocking slightly to keep her feet from growing numb. Whatever it was smelled marvelous, and she was doubly glad for taking the time to snack while she travelled. Deprived of vision, she focused on her hearing, trying to pick out comments about herself over the little sounds of silverware and goblets and plates.

Nothing was clear, though.

No matter. By the time she could smell the nutty scent of coffee in the air, she was certain that dessert had been served. And she easily heard the sound of approaching feet. Two sets.

Bil bowed her head a bit further at their approach, only able to tell that there was a pair of them.

“He outdid himself on this one.” That was Dwalin’s voice.

“My brother has always been very good at what he does. Shame though. I’ll have to ask him to make me a set.” The woman’s voice was sharp and a bit nasal, but the hand that traced down the exposed V of Bilbo’s chest was delicate. Bil lifted her head and waited.

This was part of the game. Simple touches were permitted at any time. Anyone could come up and explore. So long as there was a lack of penetration or of pain, Bil’s body was fair play for anyone that wanted it until she left the room. It was left to their determination if they wanted her stripped bare or kept covered. It was for them to decide what they would allow her to do. It was their right to indulge or deprive her as they saw fit.

She shivered as a nail dragged along the underside of her jaw.

If they wanted more than this perusal, they had to give their name, and the specified phrase. Bil had to acknowledge it. Dwalin had been very insistent on this part, as well as on the myriad safe words and signals she could use to request a break or an immediate stop.

For all the trashy romance novels written about them making her expect otherwise, this group of khazad seemed to determined to play the game safely.

That finger found her lips, and swept over them.

Until they asked, Bil wasn’t to respond.

Beyond a long exhale, she didn’t. Even that was, in theory, disallowed, but Bil had sat there for what had felt like hours, and her mind had wandered into all manner of imagined debauchery. She loved her job, and was very, very good at it. She had spent the meal helpless against the memories and possibilities of what was to come at the hands of so many guests. Wanting it to start already, it was hard not to make that obvious.

“Nori, at your service.” the woman said.

“And I’m at yours.” Bil whispered, trying not to sound needy.

There was an amused huff before two fingers were set back against her mouth. Now that she was allowed to react, she flicked out her tongue and drew little circles that grew larger as she slowly dropped open her jaw. Nori didn’t wait long before sliding those fingers between her lips. Except, she dunked them into some kind of sugary vanilla dessert first. Bil sucked, pulling them deeper into her mouth and evincing a chuckle from Dwalin. First she licked off every bit of the sugar, swallowing down the taste of dessert. Then she began to play. Nori allowed Bil to control it for a moment, before beginning a slow slide in and out of her mouth.

Without warning, they were withdrawn, and Bil pitched forward with her mouth still open. A rougher hand caught her by the jaw — it had to be Dwalin — as those wet fingers began to glide over her exposed chest. Dwalin only held her in place while Nori left icy traces on her skin. Close, but never quite touching, she ran along the scoop of the bra until Bil’s breath hitched.

“Dwalin, at your service.”

“Hello again Dwalin. Here to make sure everyone plays by the rules?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh? Here to break them yourself?” Bil’s retort cut off as Nori finally slipped a single finger just inside the lace of the bra, and took another loop. Bil had always had sensitive breasts, and exceedingly sensitive nipples. Not that she had cared to share that fact during negotiations. It was always best to let a patron make that discovery on their own.

Which Nori was about to.

Bil could feel every stitch of the lace against her stiffened nipples, and the anticipation of being touched was a torment. The pair was a couple, Bil suspected, but when they moved in synchronicity, it was confirmed.

Nori dragged a nail around her nipple, and Dwalin planted a thumb on her tongue, holding her mouth open by the jaw. Bil panted at that, and it grew worse when Nori rolled her thumbs over both of Bil’s breasts.

They released her in tandem, just as she was starting to shift her hips, looking for relief she wouldn’t find.  

The wet sound of kissing ended when Dwalin asked, “So what do you want, Nori?”

“Besides you?”

“You can always have me. This is a special occasion. She’s almost purely perian, you know. Look at how small she is.”

Nori hummed again and slipped a hand through Bil’s hair, exposing her neck and pointed ear.

“So she is. Well, in that case,” whatever else Nori said must have been whispered in Dwalin’s ear. Bil didn’t hear a word of it.

What she did hear was an approving rumble and the sound of Nori stepping onto the dais.

Not bothering to remove the robe, Nori just tucked a hand inside the fabric, finding the bare skin on her thighs and caressing it. The woman was pressed against her side and back, hot and strong. In front of Bil though, there was a familiar sound of a zipper descending, and she pulled forward toward the certainty that there was a cock within reach.

On the dais, so close to the edge, she was at the right height for most of the khazad men without them bending down, or her straining her back. She licked her lips but kept her mouth shut.

“Open up Bil.”

“Oh? Why’s that? More dessert? It was quite tasty.”

Dwalin chuckled again, “I knew you’d be more fun than the quiet ones. Thorin’s gonna lose his mind with you.” That sounded wonderful, whoever Thorin was. “Nori?”

That was the only warning she had before Nori’s hand moved higher, shoving aside the thong and pressing a firm stroke to Bil’s mound. Her mouth fell open in a gasp, and was immediately filled with Dwalin’s cock.

The moan was irrepressible.

Despite the sudden start, Dwalin took his time and let her have control as well as she could without her hands. She swallowed the excess spit and used the movement to pull him deeper into her mouth. He wasn’t the largest she’d ever sucked, but he was pleasantly on the fringe of too big. Mingling with the sugar, the salty taste was divine, and Bil flattened her tongue before attempting to find a rhythm.

But where Dwalin was generous, Nori was not. Dexterously strong fingers found their way between her folds and rocked in mercilessly.

“Mmm, Dwalin, you should feel how wet she is.” Those fingers pulled fully out, grazing lightly — too lightly — over her nub, “You should feel how much she wants to be taken. Maybe you should have her first. Maybe I should work her to a frenzy and have you finish her off.”

Bilbo moaned around her mouthful, hands trying to raise despite it being pointless. Dwalin’s hands lowered to her hair, and he began to to rock his hips, taking a bit more, though still well clear of what Bil could handle. No longer needing to concentrate on that, she could let her mind think more about the fingers that had found a pace of their own inside her.

Nori was relentless, her pace ruthless, and yet, it was obvious almost immediately that the woman had no intention of allowing Bil to come. With that in mind, Bil tried to savor it. Nori really was very good at this, and the grazing touches were infuriatingly effective. Bil knew how wet she was, how much she wanted these two to go further.

How much she wanted Nori to give orders as Dwalin pounded into her.

That was not to be.

Dwalin had not stopped, and the taste in her mouth was stronger than before, saltier, and she knew that he was close.

The contract allowed for almost any finish, in or on her. If it was Bil’s choice, though, she’d prefer to swallow. The night was young and having to correct the makeup was unappealing.

“Nori—“

“I know, love.” She said without stopping the pumping of her hand.

“I want you.”

Bil sucked a bit harder, taking Dwalin deeper in her throat when she saw what was about to occur. Nori pulled away, standing, and stepping off the little platform just as Bil thought she could drag Dwalin over the edge.

But Nori got what she wanted. Bil didn’t.

Dwalin stopped his thrusts, and was almost gasping for air. Bil heard them moving away, rapidly and awkwardly, and had to assume that there were play areas in the room she had not seen when she entered.

Quivering with need, with the robe rucked up, and the thong pulled to the side, Bil had no choice except to remain there, kneeling and panting, mewling quietly at the loss.

For a few minutes she was alone and exposed, not that it helped to slake the way her hips twitched. She wished that Nori would come back and finish her. She wished that Dwalin would come back and replace fingers with his cock. She almost thought she could hear the pair across the room, but either they were almost silent, or they had left the room entirely. Or maybe the room was just larger than she thought.

At least her breath was back under control.

Or, it was, until she felt new hands on her. This was a man, she was sure of that. There were rough calluses and a broadness to his palms. He didn’t quibble and taunt her as Nori had. Whoever it was palmed over her breasts without even a greeting, and Bil pressed harder into his hands. She was kneaded and groped, and then those hands rose up to explore her face, her neck. They drew lines along her collarbones, then found the edge of the robe. It was still clinging to her shoulders, still forming that V that called every eye to stare at her chest. He pushed, and let it fall to her elbows and bare her torso more fully. The sudden chill just puckered her nipples harder, and with an amused sound, he returned to them.

Through the lace of the bra, he twisted first one, then the other. It wasn’t enough to cross into pain, not even when he pinched at them. He rolled and pinched, letting the texture of the fabric abrade the sensitive skin.

Bil’s hips bucked after a particularly sharp, nipping pinch, and the robe slipped back down between her legs to cover her.

“Now tha’ won’ do, will it?”

He undid the knot and tugged open the robe.

The ambient sound of the room dulled for a moment, as the newcomer untied first one wrist, then the other as he slipped her free of the garment and left it puddled below her.

He whistled, playing with the chains along her hip.

“Ya did a great job with this.”

“I’m well aware I did.”

Then there were two sets of hands, still without names, following the hems of the lingerie, examining little patterns in the geometric details of the lace, and driving Bil mad. Both of them sounded almost disinterested as they talked about tatting lace and the exorbitant price of gold thread. They sounded as if they were having tea.

Bil swallowed a whimper as one began to play at her nipples, and the second followed the swag of the chain on her hip.

There were others nearby, watching. That, she was certain of. They were silent though, and without an introduction, she had to wait, and suffer, and want until one or another of them took mercy on her.  She could almost feel the gaze of some of her watchers, and shamelessly began to put on a show of it.

When a hand played with the hem of the thong, a finger tarrying over the delicate skin of her inner thigh, she dropped her mouth open and moaned wantonly.

When a hand went beneath the lace and grasped her breast, she arched her back against it, and turned her jaw, searching for something to fill it.

When a single finger pressed hard and rubbed over the soaked fabric of her underwear, the word “please” fell out of her mouth.

From the crowd there was a deep growl, and a high musical laugh.

The latter was the one to speak again, announcing with certainty, and a faint accent, “If you gentlemen are done tormenting her, I’d like to hear her say that again.” Bil shuddered a bit. This woman knew what she wanted. Knew what Bil wanted. “Do you have anything to — ah, thank you, Kíli.”

Bil pressed up as high as the bonds on her wrists allowed, waiting for this new voice to come closer. There was a brush of silken sleeves, a gentle hand in her hair, and then her head was pulled back to expose her throat. Bilbo sighed.

This woman knew exactly what she was doing.

Bil loved it.

There were tender kisses up her throat, then a cheek pressed against her own.

“That wasn’t very nice of them, was it?”

“No.”

A sharp bite to her ear prefaced the reprimand, “You will call me mistress so long as I am playing with you.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Bil’s voice was breathy and her new mistress’ was as solid as the earth. Everyone had something different that they wanted. While Bil had never managed to entirely silence her cheeky tongue, she knew when to try. This woman expected obedience.

Something dropped onto her back and was pulled slowly over her shoulder.

“Do you know what this is?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Think hard.”

Bil tried to concentrate, tried not to think about the absolute control the woman was exerting, and found the answer just as the woman’s hand tightened its grip in warning.

“A flogger, Mistress.”

“And would you like me to use it?”

Bil just nodded eagerly. That same growl sounded, not far away, maybe only a few steps. The woman smiled wide enough that Bil could feel it, and those others at the party that were close by muttered excitedly.

“In that case: Tauriel, at your service.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m at yours.” She said it impatiently. Then Bil waited for the inevitable harsher grip for failing to use the requested moniker. When it came, she disobeyed again, instead answering, “Please” in a long, desperate moan.

Tauriel laughed merrily, and, still holding Bil by the hair, kissed her, lingering and deep. Her lips were supple and well trained, her tongue insistent, and her hand pitiless. It was astounding that Bil resisted begging the moment she was able to speak.

A man’s hands grabbed her by the hips, lifting her from where she knelt, onto her knees and elbows. Tauriel leaned down, and in a kinder voice, asked, “Do you need a moment? You have been up here for some time without moving.”

Bil fidgeted her legs, knowing better than to speak without checking, and whispered ‘green’ with confidence. Then she pecked a kiss to Tauriel’s cheek, just to be impudent.

“You’ll regret that attitude.”

“No, I don’t think I will, Mistress.”

Another bright laugh, then Tauriel stood, and presented the handle of the flogger to be kissed.

The first blow of any striking toy always pulled a gasp from Bil’s chest. No matter how light a touch was used, that first stinging caress was always a shock. Always wonderful. A gentle hand followed what must have been new pink lines on her ass. Then, with a whistle, it fell again. And again. And again.

Bil knew her role, knew the rules, and answered each stroke with an affirmation, “yes, please, more, yes, Mistress, please.” It did not matter what it was, so long as Bil continued to state her continued pleasure, Tauriel would continue to deliver it.

Though, as she shook with the force of her lust, she thought her pleasure should be obvious.

Somewhere around ten strokes, Tauriel began to push her harder. The strikes turned sharper, the breaks ceased save to pause for Bil’s answer. The flogger was soft leather with knotted tips, and she could feel every one as they cracked across the seared skin of her ass. Some time after twenty, they stopped, despite Bil asking for another. She heard the leather fall to the ground, and began to beg.

“Oh no no. Mistress please. Please give me more, I’ve been good, mistress, please, please I can take more, please, let me have more.”

She got more, though it wasn’t from the leather.

The flogger had left her stinging and sensitive, and the slap of a hand over the strokes ripped a shriek from her throat that turned into a moan as Tauriel’s hand began to softly massage her.

“You did do very well, didn’t you. Do you deserve a reward?”

Bilbo nodded frantically, lowering her head toward her arms, and Tauriel cooed as it pressed her ass higher in the air.

There was a kiss at the base of her spine before Tauriel delivered another slap, this time followed by a sharp drag of nails over sore flesh. It was repeated, the bite of the slap deepened by the nails clawing over her skin, spread her cheeks a bit as they pulled. “Gorgeous.” Tauriel delivered a harder smack, and Bil pressed back into her hands when the nails returned, “Isn’t she?” Tauriel asked the question to someone watching. Whoever it was didn’t answer, and the scratching hand slowed, stopped, and then lay flat over the tiny triangle of fabric.

Bil was sure that Tauriel was staring someone down as she moved that hand lower, purposefully, but, Bil wasn’t going to complain as long as the woman took pity on her and let her come.

Oh, and she did.

Tauriel’s fingers were longer than Nori’s had been, at once more delicate, and more cruel. The fabric was tugged aside, leaving her more vulnerable and exposed. The woman teased as she glided them along the wet cleft between her legs, and pressed soft kisses to the heated pink skin. Bil could feel her legs quavering as she held off release. Nori, she could have pushed; Tauriel wanted her to wait for permission.

“Have some mercy on her Taur. Here.” A new voice interrupted, and Tauriel sat up to catch something. Bil hoped, oh how she hoped.

There weren’t that many things she could think of that might have been thrown to show her mercy.

The object was cool, hard, and textured as it was set against her thigh. Only the khazad would have made such a thing. The rest of the world knew they couldn’t do it better.

Bil keened as Tauriel let the blunt end slip and catch over her entrance and her amazingly swollen pearl. Then a hand caught against her hip, stilling the little searching movements she had started, trying to gain penetration, or pressure, or mercy. The hand tightened.

“Do not move, or you will not be allowed to come.”

Bil nodded.

And Tauriel slowly slid the piece inside her. Slack jawed and gasping, Bilbo moaned as it spread her open. The coolness of it made her shiver and Tauriel clutched her in place before Bil’s body could rebel and try to take more than was being offered.

New hands, a man's, pressed into her shoulders, pushed her down, held her cheek against the cushion, and forced to keep her still. What a picture she had to make. Blindfolded, face buried in the cushion, that burgundy lace standing stark against her skin, her hands clutching at the ribbon that bound them, and her ass held high in the air, while a woman fucked her with a toy and she trembled with want.

She couldn’t help but whimper.

It grew louder when Tauriel began to move in earnest, wringing out little cries and pleas, as she ceased her kneading massage and pressed her fingers against the front of the thong. Against the mound beneath it.

In a show of enormous restraint, Bil kept from rocking into that faint pressure. Barely.

She stayed there, trying to think of anything but the way that the shafts thrusts moved her just enough to gain the friction to tempt, but not enough to satisfy. This was Tauriel’s reward for her, to finally have something inside her. To finally have that, but to be denied the chance to come.

Bil was too stubborn to admit she was fast approaching desperate, both a blessing and a fault in her line of work. As she strained to keep stationary, to make the hands on her shoulders unnecessary, Tauriel continued at an ever increasing pace. The woman let out short laughs of pure delight with each of the needy noises that escaped Bil’s mouth.

The beads along the length of it were driving her to distraction. She could feel them as each one passed inside her, and the twisting drag of them as Tauriel lazily retracted it.

Bil had lost track of time, herself, and the rest of the room to the rhythm of that toy’s movement. She didn’t even hear when Tauriel first ordered her to move. Ordered her to come.

The lack of response for a few seconds stilled the hands on her until she nodded and answered a confirmation, then a second for Dwalin, who had reappeared nearby while she was half drowning in pleasure at Tauriel’s hand. Once Bil managed to convince them that she didn’t need a break, or a safeword, or a glass of water, that she wasn’t dropping, or any of the other things that were whispered in her ear while Tauriel kept that rod deep inside her, unmoving but still overwhelming, it began again.

Tauriel began to move, and after several minutes of enjoying Bil’s begging, repeated the previous commands.  

Bil lifted her head and let her hips obey the impulse to rock. It took less than a minute for Tauriel to bring her to an orgasm that seemed to start in her toes. Her vision blurred and vanished as she shut her eyes, and her legs collapsed, dropping her into a folded obeisance, arms still outstretched.

Soft hands were at her face, and by the time Bil had opened her eyes, the blindfold had been removed. She blinked a few times, then smiled lazily up at the stunning woman she had noticed earlier. Tauriel knelt to kiss her, once more displaying the softness that made the discipline so much more precious. Bil opened her mouth to ask for a chance to repay the incredible release.

It must have shown in her face.

“Not yet Bil, later, after some of the others have had a chance, I’d like nothing more than to have your head in my lap. For now, I do believe that as soon as you’re capable of speech again, you’ll be well occupied.” Tauriel was looking at someone across the room as she said that, and the little grin promised all manner of wonderful things. Bil couldn’t do much more than keen as she was kissed. Then Tauriel walked away, pausing to grab a glass of something from a server’s tray and chatting with some of those that had watched the display.

Bil forced her legs to move, trying to return to a more standard pose, and looked up to survey the room. The others were spread out, mingling, drinking, occasionally engaged in more amorous activities. The two young men she had noted earlier were talking together. Plotting, she expected. She hoped. They were obviously competitive, and that always resulted in a blissful time for Bilbo.

There were any number of interested eyes staring at her where she knelt, but there was one that stopped her cold.

The man that had introduced her, blindfolded and bound her, the one she believed was the host, was lounging comfortably in a chair with a crystal cup of amber alcohol in hand, and a grin like a wolf.  She didn’t know how long he had sat there, only a few steps away, watching her, but Bil very much hoped he would come up to play as well.

But he did not move, simply watched as several guests approached, with glasses and small plates of desserts in hand. They fed her small bites of cakes and tarts, let her lick their fingers clean of the mousse they dunked them into. They positioned her with her mouth wide open and her tongue half out as they drizzled spiced sauces off of spoons. They forbid her to move or swallow, licking off the excess when it spilled down her chin and onto her body.

In time, they let her clear her tongue.

It was delicious, and the way they let her lap at them, sucking and nibbling was already reviving her interest in more intense play.

They had introduced themselves, and she had replied to each, though she had lost track of their names rather quickly. There were six of them, moving in and out from her easily and playfully. Hands drifting and pinching almost lazily over her body. Bil was fairly sure that the young man teasing a spit-slicked thumb over her asshole was Ori. But the woman who was kneeling in front of her, with golden hair caught in an elegant updo, Bil had lost her name entirely. Not that Bil minded as her nipple was sucked hard, and ground against the now soaked fabric of the bra’s cup. Someone else's hand was at the other breast flicking their fingertips over the very peak of her nipple.

Three fingers were in her mouth being cleaned of chocolate for the man with the auburn hair. He was steadily moving them deeper, and soon they would brush against the back of her throat. Ori re-slicked his fingers by rubbing them over her soaked sex, and Bil groaned around the fingers in her mouth as she guessed what was coming.

Her own release eased the way when Ori breached her ass with a single finger. The fingers in her mouth held her tongue in place as she panted. The blonde’s suck became a bite, just this side of too much.

Bil’s eyes fluttered.

“Alright up there?” Ori asked in a sweet voice.

Mouth still full of fingers, she hummed an affirmative and lapped her tongue against them. The owner of those fingers grinned at her before looking over her shoulder to Ori.

“I think she needs a bit more.”

“I think you’re quite right, Gimli.” Ori quipped.

There was a brief moment when Bil was suspended between one point and the other. When the blonde had pulled back from her chest with an anticipatory murmur. When all six of them were watching Ori behind her. When Bil paused, and commanded her body to relax.

Then a second finger joined the first, and the delicious burn of it made her grind her hips against that hand, and made her mouth tighten as she shrieked. She bit down, just a little, on Gimli’s fingers, and felt him jolt in surprise. The young man withdrew his hand from her mouth as soon as it released, and used it to grab her jaw.

Cheeky insubordination was one thing, and Bil made a career of flirting with that line, but there was a quiet tension in the air as one by one the guests playing with her looked to the man in the chair. He had leaned forward, with his legs spread wide and lifted a substantial eyebrow at Gimli. As he relaxed into the chair and casually gestured with three fingers, Bil’s heart picked up its hammering.

The guests were the ones playing with her, touching her, but it was clear that he was the final prize, the one who had bought her for the night.

Gimli leaned over, still holding her jaw, “You should not bite.”

“No, sir.”

“Do you think you should be punished?”

Bil opened her mouth, but all that came out was a yelp as Ori twisted his fingers in a quick thrust. She nodded quickly as she swallowed, and met Gimli’s eyes.

“Three.” He announced.

“Three.” She accepted.

The hand beneath her jaw loosened, just before his palm cracked across her cheek. He turned it as the stroke ended, coming back the other way, and finished with a third before she registered the blazing pain of the second.

She panted as the six of them began again, toying with her, taunting her. The man in the chair was watching with a flush on his cheeks below his dark beard. Bil watched him shift, and palm at the bulge in his trousers. She would have continued, stared him down until she had managed to erode his control and brought him up to play.

The guests around her had other plans.

Ori had loosened her entrance enough to begin pumping into her with three fingers now, and Gimli had stepped out of the way to allow the blonde to take his place. The woman sank into a chair, untying the corseted bodice of her gown, and baring her chest. Bilbo pitched forward, open mouthed, and immediately swept her tongue around the dark ring of her nipple, continuing to draw smaller circles as it stiffened to a peak. She flickered the tip of her tongue out, as quick as she could with the bead of it caught between gentle teeth.

Bil allowed herself to be led, and repeated the treatment on the other while hands carded through her hair to keep it off her face.

Ori’s fingers left her, and she moaned at the emptiness, but not for long. She felt the others splay hands over the swell of her ass and pull her open. She felt the bands of the garter beneath their hands. Little muttered supplications tripped over her tongue as she tried to continue lavishing the glistening nipple in her mouth. The blonde laughed softly.

Bil expected to feel thick heat and pressure as she was fucked.

She got the wet rasp of a tongue over loosened muscle. He licked at her, broad and flat, then pointed his tongue and curled it inside her ass.

The words that fell out of her mouth were mindless, but they worked, whatever they were. The fingers that were digging into her ass and hips flexed harder and the host growled, louder than he had so far. The blonde sank lower, still bare breasted and kissed Bil. Ori’s tongue was joined by his fingers. Bil was begging loudly now, a nearly breathless garbled stream of gasping mewls and requests for Ori to fuck her into the ground. The blonde bit at Bil’s ear and neck as her hands caught the dropped weight of Bilbo’s breasts, pinching until there was no choice but to try and rock against the twinned fingers that were scissoring her wider.

“Oh, Bil, you really should learn to ask for what you want.”

“Ori, please, please fuck me, please, take me, have me. I need your cock inside me, please. Please.” The blonde twisted both hands and Bil broke off on a choked sob.

“Not really my thing.” Ori answered, the sound muffled a bit as he ducked down to trace the ring of muscles stretched around his fingers.

“Maybe we can help with that.” Bil had heard that voice before, but couldn’t look up from her renewed attentions to the blonde’s increasingly sensitive tits. Ori laughed, pulled out his fingers, and licked over her hole one last time, leaving her twitching. The voice amended, “If you all don’t mind an interruption, that is.”

Bil moaned. All six guests had stepped back at once it seemed. She dragged her head up to look for who was next, who was finally, finally going to fuck her, and found two sets of extremely intense eyes surveying her.

“Fíli,”

“And Kíli.”

“At your service.”

Wetting her lips, Bil managed to snap, “Are you actually going to fuck me?”

They looked to each other and shared a grin, “Til you beg us to stop.” The blonde answered.

“Then I’m at yours.”

Brothers, she decided as they moved toward her, closing the distance and letting the tips of their shoes hit the edge of the platform. Fíli leaned down and undid the knot that held her hands at the ground. That meant that Kíli had his fly open first. Already grateful that someone was finally going to have her, Bil licked from base to tip as soon as she could get her mouth there.

His cock was silky and solid against her tongue, and she let her hand drift over his sack as she gripped him at the base.

Hours of slow steady teasing had her bold, and, without looking, her left hand reached out to find Fili’s newly exhibited member as well. Stroking them both in tandem, she shuffled forward on her knees, arching her back and sloppily wetting her lips as she gazed up at them. They groaned.

She quirked an eyebrow, and they took the message. They stepped closer together, and she was able to begin properly. Pumping one while she licked the other, she worked at them both, back and forth. Fili’s hand tangled in her hair and she opened her mouth, happy to be obedient to these boys so long as they carried through on the promise. First it was just the head, pink and dripping, that settled against her lips.

Bil tugged solidly on Kili’s cock and began to sink closer.

Fíli smelled incredible. Like soap and the earth and a memory of a blacksmith’s forge. And he sounded incredible as he moaned her name. Bil swallowed around the build up of spit, and sank him a bit deeper into her mouth. When she pulled up and away, he protested, but by then Kili’s hand had found the rest of her hair. She was brought to his cock, a deeper shade of red than Fíli’s, and she could feel his impatience in the way his hips twitched a bit. Bil sucked, just on the head, softly, gently, and waited until his grip was fierce. She moved before he could thrust, and sank down all at once.

A half broken sound crashed out of him, and Bil smiled as well as she could, looking up at him with a look of coy innocence. Or, as innocent as anyone could look with a cock in their mouth.

The boys traded her back and forth twice or thrice more as she continued to languor over Fili’s blonde nested rod, and taunt at Kili’s shredding patience. She pumped Kíli’s cock and kissed the bead from the tip. Lips glossy with it, she met Fili’s eyes as she shifted back to take him once more.

Both of them groaned loudly at that sight.

Kili’s hand pulled at her hair as she swallowed down his brother, and she disobeyed it. With a deep breath and a great deal of concentration, she swallowed, and let Fíli slide into her throat.

Fíli shouted, and his second hand found her throat, brushing against the distended shape and rocking his hips tentatively.

Kíli cursed.

“Sorry brother, but as you seem happy there—“ Fíli mumbled something incoherent, “And I think we promised to fuck her.” Bil hummed happily, and released Kíli, bracing off the ground with her now free hand. Fíli pulled back, allowing her long moments to breathe and lap at him while Kíli positioned her how he pleased.  His hands dug furrows in her hair, not minding that by this point the curls were no longer neat, and that she was coated in a sheen of sweat.

She was back on her knees and hand, more grateful than ever for the cushion. Kíli slipped the shoes off her feet and tossed them out of the way. His suit jacket joined them a moment later. Then Fíli was stripping out of his.

Their clothes had to be expensive, but neither minded the casual throws, or the way she had smeared spit and pre-come into the laps of their trousers. Bil wouldn’t object, they looked like debauched royalty this way.

Actually, it was possible they were.

“Mahal, would you look at you.” Kíli said behind her, his hands keeping her still as he looked her over. “Hey, you should come have some.”

Again, the comment was made to the man in the chair, and Bil shivered. Then she returned her focus to Fíli before her mind could wander into what that man would do to her. Every guest wanted something different, but she was certain that his tastes ran darker than Tauriel’s had.

And how she wanted that, all of it, not the little taste Tauriel had given.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, not allowing herself to think beyond her current partners.

Nudging against her thigh, Kíli used the head of his cock to encourage her to spread her legs a bit more. With her back curved low, she could keep her mouth at its task and also present her ass in the best way possible. He muttered in a language she didn’t know, rubbing from her dripping sex up to her still loose hole, entering neither and apparently unable to decide what he wanted.

“Fee? You have a preference for a first round?”

Bil trilled at the promise in those words, and Fíli pulled her head closer, taking more of her throat.

“Faslak— ah… Kee, if you can’t choose then don’t.” He managed after she had pulled back off, sucking just at the tip, and stroking him with her closed fist, “Fuck her front, and then fuck her ass.”

“That’s a good plan, Fee.” Bil tried to push back, but was held still by both of them. Some unspoken arrangement was being negotiated above her. “Ready?”

“Very.”

Kíli had himself slick with her fluids, positioned just at her entrance. Fíli had shifted his hold in her hair to something immovable. A grip that matched the one on her hips. They both slid in at once, filling her at both ends without hesitation or mercy. She moaned until Filli filled her throat and ended the sound. Then she whined as well as she could.

The pair must have done this before. There was no chance that they could move so smoothly together otherwise. What a lucky soul that must have been to be there as they practiced and perfected. Fíli withdrew, and Kíli pushed deeper. They rocked her back and forth in an undulating wave that had her shaking in moments. She had to drop her hand to the ground to keep herself upright, and trusted in Fíli to give her a chance to breathe from time to time.

He delivered and more.

He held her buried in the hair of his crotch long enough that she grew red faced and teary, but not so long that her vision narrowed. One hand in her hair, and the other at her throat, he was taking extra pleasure in the feeling of himself inside her.

His brother was rolling his hips as he thrust, and Kíli’s hands had moved to her ass as the rigid control became unnecessary. Kíli said something that Bilbo didn’t pay attention to, filled as she was. Then there was a drizzle of something cold in the cleft of her ass, and Kíli sank both his thumbs into her hole, holding her open without losing the rhythm in his hips.

She shrieked, or, she would have, had her mouth been empty. It caused a stuttered thrust into her mouth, and she forced her jaw to stay pliant for his use no matter how much instinct begged for her to do otherwise.

For his sake, fortunately, Fíli noticed.

Kíli waited until Fíli had pulled out entirely before beginning to slam into her with the consistent power of a hammer’s fall. She moaned at the loss, but still gulped at air, knowing her face was red from the exertion, knowing there were tear tracks on her cheeks and spit dribbling down her chin. Fíli stepped out of the way, moving up to join his brother. Which left her with a clear view of the host, eyes burning bright as she was rocked by the battering thrusts Kíli had fallen into. He was still holding her ass open, allowing any who wanted to watch her gaping hole.

“Sure you don’t want to come have this?” Fili asked the host.

The man declined, but held her eye, and gave her a look, a promise, written with nothing more than the look in his eyes.

Bil came around Kíli without realizing she had begun to fall.

She found herself straddling Fili’s lap when her head cleared. He had moved to sit on the edge of the stage, and both of the boys were rubbing gently at her back, waiting for her to descend from the clouds.  As she did, she noticed there were more cushions than before, one beneath Fíli, and another on the ground behind her.

Dwalin reappeared, and as she slumped into Fili’s shoulder, languid and unsure how much time had passed, he asked a familiar set of questions.

No, she didn’t need a break.

No, she wasn’t hurt.

No, she wasn’t dropping yet.

Yes, she remembered all the safe words.

Bil did accept the glass of water though, and handed it back to Dwalin with a grin.

“I’m not done yet.”

“I hope not, I promised Nori that I’d fuck you before you were done tonight.”

Bilbo didn’t mean to roll her hips into Fili’s swollen cock, but it seemed to break down the control he must have been clinging to.

“If you’re all done chatting, Kee and I would like to take you apart properly.”

Fili’s hands, stronger than she could ever fight against, caught her wrists, and pulled them above her head. Kíli grabbed her, lifted her, and positioned her over the now weeping head of Fili’s shaft. She squeaked a bit as he slid inside her. Fíli was much broader than his brother, or maybe she was just clenched from the recent orgasm.

It didn’t matter.

It felt amazing, and she was still so wet from the previous play that there was no catch or friction to sully the moment.

Kíli was still impatient.

So while his brother waited calmly, despite being buried to the hilt her in welcoming body, Kíli scooted closer. He rubbed his cock against his brother’s, and for a moment, she thought they would take her as one, both of them in the same hole and she trembled with a safe word tickling her throat.  But Kíli was just tormenting his brother with those gliding thrusts.

It wasn’t another moment or two before she felt his hands pull her cheeks apart again, and she sobbed a high note of pained delight. He paused with just the tip inside her, giving her a moment to relax through the new, wider stretch.

But Kíli was young, and not a patient man. When her breath settled to something more reasonable, he shifted the angle of his hips, and sheathed himself in a long drive. Bil did scream at that, her head lolling back onto Kili’s shoulder. Ori had loosened her, but the slick wasn’t as liberal as she might have wanted. She felt the burn flood through her. She felt the press of them rubbing against each other within her body. She felt as the head of Kili’s cock slid up the length of Fili’s, separated only by her inner walls.

Screaming had been the only appropriate response.

Then they both began to move, and it had been the only thing she was capable of doing. They started with a dual rocking motion that rubbed them against each other. Fíli tightened his hands for a moment, ordering her silently to keep them above her head. She failed at that the moment he let go.

Fíli kissed brutally. Plundering and punishing as he pulled at her hair. Kíli let go of her hips to gesture, and Bil whimpered as two strangers’ caught her arms. They were pulled out to the sides, and one of the newcomers — she was too dazed to pay attention to who — handed Kíli a bottle of lube. Bil gasped at the cold, but it melted into something pleasure soaked as he thrust into her again, smoother this time. Fíli took charge of her hips, raising and dropping her onto his cock as Kíli fucked her with longer and longer strokes, his hands inside the bra she still somehow wore, scratching his fingers over her nipples so viciously she found her hips snapping to meet their movements.

Her throat was growing raw from broken screams when they came. Kíli came first, pulling out while he still pulsing, and splashing her back and ass with his seed. Fíli took it as a cue, and surrendered to his baser desires. The same ones that had kept him deep in her throat while tears slipped down his cheeks. He took her hard, paying no attention to her pleasure, with a dark gleam to his eyes while she panted down at him.

Seeing him so uninhibited was enough though, and she was crying out his name by the time he found his completion.

But she didn’t find hers.

Since she was once again aroused and shuddering for another round, the boys let her be lifted off their laps with nothing more than a few grateful kisses to whatever they could reach. Bil whimpered helplessly as she was laid on her back on a table.

Her head dropped off the edge, and she smiled blearily at the inverted sight of the room.

The edge of the table was just beneath her ass.

She was already ecstatic, expecting what was to come next. Then she felt her hands tied down, stretched out from her body, and she begged, “Ohhhhh, please, more, please more, someone please.”

Bil cut off.

Something hot and solid was sliding through the mixed filth that drenched her sex, and she craned her head to see Dwalin grinding his hips into her. He bent over and held still long enough to check her state.

She answered too fast, and Dwalin, too cautious for her taste, waited, disapproving, while she took the time check with her body. The second time she said green, it was accepted.

Dwalin wasted no more time. He pressed her thighs flat into the table, tilted his hips to grind his length in a long pass over her nub, then ducked them to a better angle. Bil felt him catch on her opening, and nearly slide away in the mess that covered her. “Are you planning to actually do something?” She asked easily, not bothering to look up.

Dwalin snorted a laugh, and Bil thought she heard Nori’s snicker.

But then he plowed into her, starting immediately at a pace and a punishing force that the boys had barely achieved. It tore sounds out of her throat, and Bil was happy to enjoy it. Happier still when his rough hand played with the gold chain above her soiled thong. Happiest yet when his thumb found the point she loved the most. Not actually on that hidden pearl, but just above it. He rubbed at her as his fingers stroked through and played at the golden curls she had so carefully trimmed earlier that day.

Bil would have been content to just be pounded into the table by Dwalin and anyone else in the room that cared to have her.

Tauriel returning, wearing a flimsy robe, heels and jewelry, was simply the icing on the cake.

If Bil had still had her hands, she would have reached, dragged, pulled, buried her face in the redhead’s thighs and shown what her own fingers could do to a woman. Instead she had to wait, moaning, rocked by Dwalin’s efforts, for Tauriel to stand above her, legs parted, and at just the right height. Bil let the woman slip a hand beneath her neck for support, and began what she had wanted since Tauriel had first introduced herself.

Tongue and lips worked at the woman, and Bil savored every gasp she earned.

This wasn’t the time to tease, and Tauriel was so wet and shaky above her that Bil soon started to match Dwalin’s pace. She heard a stuttering laugh when Tauriel noticed the pattern to the changes in Bil’s rhythm.

Dwalin came first, painting her chest and stomach with his spend and kissing Bilbo’s knee before he returned to Nori’s open arms.

Tauriel forced Bil to stop, lifting her head to greet another guest, Bofur, the one with the charming mustache.

“At your service, Bil.”

“Hullo.” She answered muzzily.

“I suppose yer still all nice and slicked open for me, are ya?” He hoisted her legs higher, and claimed her ass in a single move.

Tauriel came not long after, and was replaced with Ori. He may not have been interested in fucking her ass, but he happily found other pleasures. While her nose was pressed against his balls, he set a hand on her neck, following the bulge with reverent touches as he rocked. She hummed, caught between enjoyment and the rising need to breathe. He came down her throat with a loud shout.

Bil lost track after that.

She greeted them all, accepted them all eagerly, sucked and lapped at what was brought to her mouth, and rocked her hips to counter the thrusts of cock and hand alike. Fingers scooped up lines of still-warm cum from her body, and plunged into her mouth, keeping them there til she had licked them clean.

Dwalin was somewhere nearby, she was certain. There were pauses in the guests that partook of her. When she got desperate, she only had to sign for a rest and she was granted one.

Sometimes guests waited till she was alone, stretched and debauched and yearning, before they would come over, wanting her all to themselves. One man climbed astride her chest and blithely tugged himself to completion while she listed everything she wanted him to do instead. He spilled over her neck and left, having never needed to give his name.

Sometimes they came in pairs, in trios and groups, and drove Bil mad pulling orgasms out of her. A pair of them bent over her, sharing kisses as they filled her with fingers, then with toys. The blonde from earlier — Bil still could not recall her name — returned in a similar sheer robe, and straddled Bil’s hips. She ground them together with short bucking movements as she rolled nipples between her fingers, one of her own and one of Bil’s. When she came, loudly, her fingers squeezed and a pathetic plea fell out of Bil as she yearned for more.

Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought she heard that growl nearby.

Drink flowed freely, guests spent faster, and the night began to wane.

Fíli and Kíli reappeared, shirts gone missing, to untie her from the table and clean away some of the mess that covered her. Bil sighed happily as they kissed her by turn, and let them take care of her for a few minutes. Water, a few bites of food. She hummed as they checked her hands and arms for any trace of damage. They rubbed at her neck, easing any tension that she had gained.

And then they once more waited for her to come back down to herself. Not entirely, but enough that they believed her answer when she said she was fine. Then she said she wanted more, and turned, looking for the man from the start.

Exhausted, slick, spent, filthy, it didn’t matter, she had no intention of leaving the party until she had found him, and found out what was behind that growl.

Once they believed her assertions, and they didn't the first time, they led her to an area she hadn’t paid attention to yet. Her hands were lashed behind her, and she was encouraged to kneel on fresh cushions.

“Again?” She asked Kíli, kissing his cheek as he bound her.

The young man huffed a laugh. “Something like that.”

The blindfold returned to her eyes, and in a rush her mind began to clear. By the time she heard footsteps, she was about as clear headed as she could wish to be.

“Decided to more than watch, have you?” she asked in the what she guessed was the right direction.

The back of his fingers ran down her cheeks, and she turned into them, open mouth seeking, and failing.

She could see the shadow of him pass around her in a circle. He didn’t say a word.

So she did.

“Perhaps Tauriel might still be willing, if you want another showing. You don’t seem interested in playing yourself.” Bil smirked, and waited. There was an unnatural stillness in the air. Anyone remaining in the chamber was watching them. They didn’t matter. She tilted her head, and mocked a sad sigh. “Such a shame, after everything that I’ve heard about your people—“

A single finger set against her lips, silencing her.

“She’s rather talkative isn’t she, Dwalin?” Dwalin didn’t answer the man, and Bil had to wait as her lips were traced and touched. “I told Dwalin I wanted him to find a submissive for this event.”

“Instead you got me.”

“Yes.”

“But you haven’t had me yet.”

“I’ve not seen proof you can do as told.”

“You’ll just have to give me a reason to then.”

He knelt behind her, and she could feel the hair of his chest against her back. The bulge of his erection was pushing against her hip, and both of his hands began to track over the lines of what had been excellent lingerie a few hours ago.

“You are filthy. Look at you, dirty, dripping, gaping open, and still begging for me to take you.” Bil was sure that if the man just talked to her for a few more minutes she was going to be tumble into yet another orgasm. A voice like that ought to be considered illegal. Knowing what he looked like just made it worse. “My guests have had you in every way they care to. I have watched you beg, and plead, and shudder as they brought you over the edge time and again. Yet, you are still asking for more. Should I give it to you?”

“Mmmmmm,” his hand had followed the line of her ruined thong, and was drifting through the blonde hair casually. “Please. Please.”

“You say the words, but I doubt you truly know how to submit.”

“Then give me something to submit to,” She hesitated, then took the risk on her guess, “your majesty.”

She was pulled against him, and she ground her ass into his lap.

“You talk too much. Let’s see if you know how to keep silent, shall we, Bil?” This voice was even deeper, a predator on the hunt, staring down a meal it was about to devour, “Not a word, not a sound, until I give you permission. If you speak, I will consider it a safeword, and we will be done. If you make… other sounds… you will need to be reprimanded.”

He breathed it into her ear, but the others must have heard; there was a low flutter of chatter after he spoke.

“Is that all? Not going to dock my pay?”

He ceased his caressing and spoke seriously, “I will never ask you to place your safety opposite anything except your own limits. Not against wealth, or pride, or achievement. But, if you can outlast my will, I would happily make you a very rich woman.”

“You would have me come back?”

“If you can prove yourself obedient, I’d have you return, and have you all to myself.”

Bilbo had nothing but the sound of her own breathing as that implication settled over her. She wanted this man, as badly as she had ever wanted anything.

Silence wasn’t her strength.

No matter, she would find a way.

She nodded.

He rose, and, barely visible, he gave her a small bow of his head. “Thorin Oakenshield, at your service.”

Bil smiled, hearing her guess confirmed, “Bilbo Baggins at yours.”

No wonder they had not minded the destruction of the outfit. No wonder there had been gold draped over it. No wonder the guests had been dressed magnificently, and still carelessly disrobed. No wonder the contract holder had been anonymous.

The king of the wealthiest nation is Arda could have whatever he wanted. And, for the moment, he wanted her.

His thumb pressed over her mouth again, a reminder of his command, and she waited. He was kneeling at her front now, and his gaze was nearly a physical caress. Thorin’s hands touched gently, disapprovingly, and Bilbo kept herself as still as possible. When he pinched her nipples, her hips bucked and her mouth opened, but nothing louder than an exhale sounded in her throat.

“This won’t do.”

Her head snapped up at that, unsure what she had done wrong. Clarity was brought by the next sound.

Metal drawn against metal.

High and singing as it vibrated, Bil heard him draw a blade. She had been right after all, the lingerie wasn’t going to survive to the dawn.

“Do you know what this is?” She nodded quickly. “Do you have anything you want to say?” She shook her head, pressing her chest forward as her back arched and her body sought friction.

Thorin did growl then. The blade was icy cold against her skin as he laid the flat of it against her stomach. He pulled it up, letting the edge trail behind the safer flat, passing it over the cup of the bra, letting it swing the chains over her breasts, and then travel back down, slowing when she twitched. It was a painless promise, this slow torture over her chest.

Bil wanted to know how sharp that knife was. She wanted to feel the edge against her skin, unmoving, but dangerous all the same. She wanted to surrender to the darkest desires in this king’s soul, and let him revel in them.

But while this exploration was allowed by her contract, darker games were not. Any blood, and Dwalin would end the night on the spot. She trusted Thorin didn’t want that, and shivered when he turned the blade on edge, letting her feel the line of it through the protection of the garter belt.

Thorin pulled her to her feet, positioning her with her legs spread. She wished she still had the heels, Bil was taller than most of her family, but with her heritage, Thorin was easily a head above her. He moved comfortably around her, nudging her feet further apart, tucking her hair over her shoulders, adjusting the ties on her wrists and placing her joined hands in the small of her back. His hand prodded at her, and she let her back arch, presenting her breasts and ass.

“You know what to do if you wish me to stop.” Bil nodded again, clinging to steady breaths to keep herself from speaking.

There was a brief pressure against the strap of the bra, then a faint sound as the fabric parted and he began to cut it off of her. The cups of the bra were first, and he let them drop as the knife slowly slid along the edges. The chain of gold tumbled and swung, falling into the crease of her chest before joining the scraps of lace on the ground. His thumb brushed over her breasts as if he had to experience them anew now that they were visible. The straps were slit, and he rested the knife against the scrap of lace still holding the tatters to her chest, just over her sternum.

It came apart when she gasped too sharply and Thorin rumbled his approval.

The knife, warmed by her skin, graced over her bare chest, more delicate than before as it travelled to similarly destroy the garter and thong. He set fingers to the stockings, and slid them to the ground, allowing her to step out of them.

“That’s better.”

Bil shook.

There were gems in her hair, ribbons on her wrists and silk over her eyes.

Nothing else.

The rest of her was exposed to Thorin, all other guests forgotten. The knife was sheathed. He began to explore.

Thorin pawed at her. He would pinch and grope hard enough her mouth would fall open, then bend to kiss the same spot. He bent over as he lifted her breasts and licked. He sucked and nipped at her neck, her ears, her chest. He sucked at tiny points, no doubt leaving a constellation of purple splotches. His tongue cupped beneath her nipple and he closed his mouth, meticulously dragging his teeth over it. He exhaled a hot breath over wet skin on the side of her breast, and bit. Bil bucked, mouth dropping wide, and barely restrained a scream. He gave her no mercy, turning the bite to a suction that she knew would mark her for days to come.

His hand dropped, playing and teasing between her thighs. She had been cleaned somewhat, but was still drenched, and the sound was obscene.

Nibbling, he moved to where she knew her nipples were bright red from the efforts of the other guests. Had he been the first to play with her that night, she would have been able to resist. But he was the last, and tender as she was, when he sucked hard, a strangled whimper fell out of her mouth.

He heard, and he froze.

“On your knees.”

She complied with more obedience than grace. He stepped away for a moment, and she heard murmurs from a crowd as well as familiar wet sounds further off. Thorin placed a thin, stiff object in her hand; a switch or a crop.

“I believe I asked you to be silent.” She nodded hurriedly, affirming, and kissed the handle as soon as it was in front of her. Five blows followed, and she nodded throughout, not wanting to risk his stopping because he thought she did not want it, but not wanting to speak. He placed them in a crisscross over the broadest swell of her ass.

Thorin placed the switch into her hands, closing her fingers over it. He was at her side, kneeling as well, and closed a hand around her neck with just enough pressure she gasped a deeper breath.

“Not a sound.”

The world narrowed to his hand at her throat, alternately stroking gently, then choking her, and to his hand between her legs.

It was sinfully patient. He was straining against his trousers, and she felt him grind into her hip from time to time, but his hand was endlessly slow. It was gentle. It was tender. It was cruel. He just barely touched her, feather soft, and the need for more made her tremble, and buck her hips down. Each time, the hand at her throat would warn her and keep her from moving farther.

Each time a moan or mewl or whimper escaped her control, he would take back the switch and deliver more blows, forgiving her the disobedience she could not restrain when he was striped new lines over her ass. After she cried out at the fifth strike of a round, he replaced the switch in her hands, and bent her over, opening his fly.

Thorin kept her ass in the air, forcing her to attempt to balance without her arms as she began to lick at him.

It was too much though, without any way to hold up tired muscles, and she dropped the switch from one hand to dangle sideways, and get his attention. It was instant. He helped her sit back up and caught her by the shoulders while he leaned in to her ear.

“Do you need to stop? A rest?” She waved the fingers of her empty hand, and he nodded, already plucking at the ribbon, giving back her arms.

Bil fell against him as her hands touched the ground. He allowed it for a moment, then placed a hand on her head in an invitation and an order.

Now she could lave over him properly. He was thick and hot, and no matter how well he could control himself, his cock was twitching on her tongue as she sucked and directed her attentions just below the head. Thorin rocked upward when she sank down, and she wished her throat was less sore, that Fíli hadn’t fucked her mouth so hard, that fewer of the guests had taken her throat while she was on the table.

Thorin groaned, unbothered that she didn’t take him deeper.

One hand snaked beneath her, circling at her hole, which quivered in anticipation.

He accepted something from another guest, but still bent into his lap, she paid it no attention. The plug slid into her ass easily. It was wide, and beaded like the one Tauriel had nearly wrecked her with. Thorin seated it fully, and twisted the handle. Around her mouthful, her jaw dropped and shriek tried to escape.

Thorin heard it.

Of course he heard it.

The slap of his hand to the abused skin preceded him lifting her by the hair. Whimpering, she scrambled to obey. He hauled her a few steps, and pressed her against a high, sturdy bench. He bent her over it, and secured her hands to the ground on the other side. She was left standing there while he retrieved a toy. More than one. She mewled, and he placed clips onto her nipples. The flogger was presented and accepted, and he worked it skillfully, taking care not to lay more than a glancing blow over the handle of the plug. Bil abandoned her pride and gasped and moaned her lust. As she grew louder in her wordless entreaties, Thorin grew fiercer.

Bil almost screamed a protest when he stopped.

Thorin’s hands were going to leave bruises where he grabbed her hips, but then his cock was sliding against her and she didn’t care. He rammed inside her, and the world sparkled on the periphery.

Anyone else at the party would have brought a friend, would have had another take her mouth and suck at her breasts. There was a greed to Thorin, though. He had spent the evening watching her, knowing as well as she did that he would be the last, the finale. Knowing that when he did have her, she would neither want or need another.

Bounced by the percussion of his fucking, her breasts swung and the weight of the clips forced her pleasure higher.

With each thrust she could feel the plug jiggle.

Using anything but words she begged him to go harder, to take whatever he wished. Either he understood, or simply planned to do so regardless. Bil crested her orgasm with a desperate scream, and he did not stop.

There was no one who would come halt him unless she spoke. No one would undo the clips on her sore aching nipples. No one but she could tell him to stop. And he would if she said even a word.

She didn’t want that.

Drifting in the haze of her release, she managed to hold back speech while he slammed into her. She could feel him losing his rhythm. She could feel him tightening his grip. She could feel him moving inside her even more as her muscles fluttered around him. She could feel him approaching his fall, and the end of her evening.

Oversensitive, shaking again, and starting to doubt she could hold out much longer, Bil echoed his shout as he came.

They held there for a moment, a testament to lust, clipped and bound, as filthy as he had labeled her to be, his hips still flush against hers.

He withdrew, and she felt his spend and her release begin to trickle down her legs. Bil shivered. Moaned.

It was only a moment or two, but she felt like she was left there for an eternity. If anyone else approached, she would have to decline. There was nothing left for her to give, no more energy and no more will. Even so, the idea of being kept there til she was again ready to be fucked, until the crowd had recovered, tried to spark her arousal.

They were done though, and it was Thorin who undid the clips, who untied her hands, who removed the plug. He helped her rise to standing, holding her up in case the shift in blood sent her into a faint. He wrapped a blanket around her and lifted her into his arms. Bil made some pathetic little noise as she was settled in his lap, but gratefully drank the water that was offered. Her eyes opened when she noticed the blindfold had been removed, and smiled drowsily at him.

If there was anyone else still in that enormous chamber she wasn’t aware of them. Even Dwalin seemed to have departed. Thorin convinced her to eat a bite or two, and laughed when, on instinct, she sucked on the fingers in her mouth.

At some point she was carried to another room, and settled into a bed. He wiped her clean and let her burrow into blankets while he pet her hair.

“Are you well?” He asked before she could fall asleep, “You have not spoken. We did not injure you, did we? Did I go too far?”

Bil made herself open her eyes again. He was so earnest.

“You hadn’t given me permission yet. And I think you said if I could be silent…” She trailed off as he grinned. “Did I prove myself?”

“You would accept another contract?”

“Will you give me what you held back tonight?”

“Yes.” There was a gleam of the predator in his eyes again, and his voice with rough.

Exhausted, sore, and knowing that the morning would greet her with aches and bruises, itchy skin and hoarse voice, Bil winked at him. He kissed her forehead sweetly, and she let herself fall asleep.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ....uh....I'll be in the corner with the holy water, organizing a prayer breakfast now.


End file.
